Saturday, January 30, 2016

One Less, One More, Drama....


for every birth, there is eventually someone else’s masterful unraveling
for every accomplishment, there is another sinking into the depths of failure for the thousandth instance
for every young individual flourishing, there is an elder deteriorating
for every reaction, a counteraction, for everything, there is a unknowing response
for every breakage, someone unwittingly is strengthened by that elsewhere, and for every strength, someone is broken
to the point where the recipients cannot be told apart from the givers, and the blame is passed round dirtily until no one wants to touch its surfaces anymore that are caked with filth and scum, the infection, spreads
that infection is blame, that infection is embodied in blame, it’s all about blame to those who have to affirm for themselves everyday through insecurity, and yet, that is all of us.
human life, human lies, torches that so easily lose the flicker of their flame to the outerlying elements, and the underlying insecurities that consume, that hateful inward insecurity that rips us at our seams and tells us, that it’s okay to act so hateful, foolishly, pettily, if it means it’ll gratify us, even if it means demeaning others in the process.
let me out of this. let me out of humanity. let me stray from the imprisonment of my feelings, from the confined space of an underground cell, to where the air is no longer noxious and heavily cured by the sins of my predecessors and the sin of my past self, and the sins i still occasionally commit... let me be freed from the torments associated with being human. i envy the unfeeling, i envy the eternally happy animal who can keep facade up with every blow, and even after knowing hatred, can recover.
not so easily, are susceptible to the case of forgiveness, not so easily are humans swindled by the promises and promises of a brightened future, the idea that their love can be replenished by someone else. humans sometimes have no one else, and are forced to befriend the only thing they know to be closest, that being their minds, the deepest annals of their blackened and careless minds marked by forgetfulness and social ineptivity,
the lonely human is perhaps the specimen that is evidently the saddest collective of flaws that we know, trapped inside their mind, begging to be set free, begging for thread, when there’s no words left, when there’s no speaker on the other side of the frame, when the picture frame is charred in a purposeful arson, and the human reflectively howls in disappointment not realizing just what they’ve done, and that the picture, and the subject on the otherside, that companion who has stuck by for so long, through the severest and most drastic, is gone.
the remainder thinks they see a glint of hope in the rearview, an opaque mirage etched in flyaway sand that the wind blows opposite, over a shoulder, in the obscurest of places, there is always glinting hope....
but there’s nothing left.
there’s nothing left.
the frame has become an irreparably ashen pile, and they are left to salvage pieces, sell them for scrap, and forcibly move on despite the wounds left. because even the slightest interaction was perhaps enough to bring solace, in a manner that no mind would ever properly simulate
for some mutualism isn’t a reliable system. some simply cannot exist properly as friends. creatively, socially, generally. the hurt and the human feeling of ache trumps all the cards presented, it brings forth the worst, and just one mistake fucks shit up. for all parties, for all groups, for all. the first cut is the deepest, contrary to popular belief, and the cut sharply carved into the bobbing bones of the back by spontaneous omission is just even worse, with only partial awareness that it was even being done by the unidentified coconspirator, and the alleged instigator was unaware that they were even still going to be put under knife for old wounds, but clearly, the wounds recent enough to still make an impact
it’s not surprising that another person left your ass, honey, whispers a voice condescendingly
it’s a sign you need to learn to live with yourself.


two years after and i’m still occasionally spewing bullshit because i honestly fear i’m being spoken about with slanderous words behind the scenes everyday, and feel like i have to preemptively defend myself from things i see as being oncoming insults that actually NEVER FUCKING COME, but my MIND thinks ARE COMING, because why else would anyone not say anything to refute what my mind is screaming at me. i don’t know, maybe i should try, you know, saying it aloud, instead of letting my crazy brain drive me into a paranoid corner to the point where i have to spew venom when i truly feel threatened for no reason other than the fact that i’ve essentially convinced myself that i’m going to be ridiculed because of course that’s ALL THESE PEOPLE WANNA EVER DO TO YOU, THAT’S ALL THEY WILL EVER DO, 

YOU WERE PSYCHOLOGICALLY CONDITIONED TO THINK THIS AS A CHILD and LIED TO in order to increase your PERFORMANCE and OBEDIENCE TO BULLSHIT THAT WOULDN’T MATTER OVER TEN YEARS LATER. BUT YOU KNOW IT STILL SOMEHOW REIGNS TRUE BECUASE PEOPLE KEEP LEAVIN G YOU RIGHT

WAKE UP, WAKE UP WAKE UPPPP AUDREY YOUR BRAIN IS LYING TO YOU

YOUR MOTHER HAS TRULY HAD THAT MUCH OF A DEVELOPMENTAL INFLUENCE ON YOU

JUST PUT ME IN FOR BRAIN CLEANSING. JUST ERASE MY FEELINGS. JUST RID ME OF HUMAN THOUGHT AND CAPABILITY. I AM HAPPY BEING EMOTIONLESS AND STONY IF IT MEANS I DON'T HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS ANYMORE. I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE PERMITTED TO FEEL BAD WHEN I DID THIS TO MYSELF. I SHOUDLN'T.

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